The Night Within
by Starath
Summary: TFA-- One night Blitzwing runs into Blackarachnia, and she has an AllSpark fragment she'll give him. The price? Blitzwing tells her his life-story. Rated T for violence and sad angsty stuff. Work in progress, R& R, please!
1. Chapter 1

The Night Within

By Starath

_Author's Note:__ Transformers Animated Blitzwing has captured my attention. I love his character, and I began to wonder, why does he has those three faces? I decided to explore his life story to see what he would tell me. Legal stuff--Blitzwing and TF: Animated characters belong to HASBRO, not me. Quickshadow belongs to Demon Lord Onigawa and my characters are my own kthx. Special thanks to Crab, Shinobi77, DLO and 138Scourge for helping me with this series!_

**Prologue**

Blitzwing stepped to the rooftop's edge and peered down. Nothing. He recalibrated his sensors. Still, nothing. The cool night breeze did little to soothe his growing frustration. The energy signature had been _right here_ moments before he landed. A piece of the AllSpark could not simply vanish.

"Although dot vould be a neat trick," he mused to nobody but himself. _It is too convenient,_ he added in thought. Instantly another voice joined the inner conversation.

"_Enough of searching! Time to tear de place APART!"_ demanded Hothead.

"Ve need to maintain stealth," Blitzwing reminded him aloud.

"_Big deal! Ve could do it quietly!_" cried a second voice in his mind, laughing. _"Ve'll use de small hammer this time." _

"No, Random," he said firmly, rubbing his weary optics to clear them of dust. He tried to focus on the scanner readings.

"_Vy nooooot?"_ asked Random, more concerned with the chance to use the big rubber mallet he found yesterday. In the other corner of Blitzwing's mind, Hothead snorted.

"_You BROKE de hammer last time testing it on Lugnut's head, remember?"_

"_It vasn't me!" _

"_Who ELSE could it haff been?"_

"_Icy did it!"_

"I did not!" protested Blitzwing too loudly, and clapped a hand on his face. Technically he wasn't talking to himself, but this didn't help his already fragmented attention span. "There is no time for this," he chided his wayward personalities. "Ve must find de AllSpark fragment. Vill either of you explain failure to Megatron _again?_"

Hothead and Random fell silent.

"Didn't think so."

Satisfied, he returned to reading his scanner inputs. Across the city, a clock struck midnight. He listened to the chimes, hanging onto each reverberating note before it dissipated with the breeze.

"_I'm bored,"_ whined Random.

Blitzwing face-palmed.

"_Ven can ve squish humans?"_

"_Argh, you are alvays bored, Random."_ complained Hothead.

"_I can't help it!"_

Movement to Blitzwing's left caught his optic. "Silence! Both of you!"

Spinning, he had his cannons ready to fire. He halted at the last microsecond. Straightening up, he smiled. "Blackarachnia."

She slid out of the shadows of a neighboring building. "Blitzwing."

"To vot do I owe de displeasure?"

"Having fun talking to yourself again?"

He shrugged. "Megatron has been looking for you."

"I'm sure he has. Been looking for something yourself?"

"Only de last traces of my sanity."

"Really?" She reached behind her and revealed a simmering blue shard in her palm. "Would it look something like this?"

His optics widened a fraction. He willed his emotions mute, but wasn't fast enough and felt his mentality slip. Random's face spun into place and laughed with a jagged grin.

"Possibly, although not as shiny!"

Blackarachnia didn't flinch; he had to give her credit for that. Not many could stand Random's sudden appearances.

"You give me what I want and I'll give you what you want." She flipped the AllSpark fragment between her fingers. "Deal?"

Random scratched his chin in his best imitation of looking thoughtful. "Dot depends. Vot vould you like? A dance in de moonlight? A serenade? A vicious gunfight to de death?"

Her body stiffened, her tone instantly venomous. "You couldn't shoot a protoform in a barrel. And if you sing the "Rubber Ducky Song" again, I'll slagging kill you."

His shoulders drooped. "Aww."

"Do you want this thing or not?" she snapped.

He closed the distance between them in three long strides. Reaching through Random's rejection, Blitzwing regained control of his mentality and his face spun back, cold, straight, but smiling, now inches from hers.

"And vot makes you think I vould giff something to you…?" he made a grab for the fragment. She ducked under his arm and danced to the side.

"Otherwise, you don't get this." She wiggled the shard. "We all know how much Megatron does not appreciate failure."

"Indeed, he does not." Even if he could simply take it from her with force, Blitzwing decided to play the spider's game. "Vot is it dot you vant?"

Her playful demeanor sobered. She stowed the shard away, then folded her arms tightly against her body. She swayed, obviously struggling to recall rehearsed lines.

"Tell me how you got the… you know," Blackarachnia motioned to her head and made a spinning gesture. "Other… faces."

"_Vot?"_ asked Random, amused.

"_Now this is new,"_ said Hothead.

"Curious," Blitzwing said aloud, and at her confused expression, he waved a hand in dismissal. "I admit you surprise me. It is not often I am asked, as few care to know or haff de patience to listen. It is…. a complicated story I myself do not haff all de pieces to. Howeffer, vy do you ask, Blackarachnia?"

She swallowed, again trying to recall lines. Finally she spat out, "I just need to know, okay? Did they leave you?"

" 'They'?" he frowned. "No, I vould not say dot. Vy—"

"Look," she said, fists clenching up. "Don't. Ask. Tell me or I'm outta here. And keep it to one narrator."

"_Ha! Nice vish!"_ crowed Random.

Blitzwing's face cracked with the slightest of smiles. "I cannot guarantee dot. As I said, there are parts I do not know. But, I can try."

Turning away from her, he seated himself on the roof's stairway shed. The metal creaked under his weight. He felt the door inside fold in on itself. When it stopped and held, he leaned back a little to make himself comfortable.

"In truth it feels as though I haff always been like this," he admitted, "and I do not remember it all entirely vell."

Blackarachnia stepped closer, stopping a safe distance away. "Was it fast? Did it hurt?"

He rested his hands on his knees, studying the gravel underneath his boots. His mind flew through fractured memories and he shook his head. "You think I voke up this vay? No, no, it vas much slower than dot…"

---

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

The Night Within

By Starath

**Chapter 1**

Blitzwing found the clacking of computer keys therapeutic when it went on long enough. Despite the mundane nature of the tasks, his job allowed him to listen to the ceaseless rhythm for megacycles without pause. He worked through a massive stack of data files every day, inputting hundreds of names, numbers and information that, in truth, meant nothing to him. He paid attention to the medical data only long enough to type it, too busy listening to the prattle of his keyboard. He was the best archivist at Altihex's Central Medical Facility, but if someone asked for a particular file, he struggled to find it. His typing skills were superb. His memory had never been particularly good.

He didn't really fit in at work anyway. Unlike his coworkers, who were usually slim, car-sized Transformers, he looked like a soldier. His wings made it awkward to sit in the office chair and the spikes on his shoulder guards sometimes got in the way. Still, he did the best he could. His monocle hardly left the computer screen in front of him while he typed. Not that it really mattered, anyway, because by large he was left alone. It was true he did his best while working. That didn't mean he belonged there.

Getting Blitzwing's attention while he was at work was like poking a tank drone with a thumbtack and expecting it to notice. Astrotrain often wondered how Blitzwing could miss him, since his color scheme was bright white, purple and red. His wingspan made it difficult to get through certain doors. To top it off, he was one of the largest 'bots around. By now he didn't bother waiting for his best friend to realize when he was standing in front of his desk. Instead, Astrotrain found new ways to announce his presence. It was only a matter of time before Blitzwing noticed what was sitting on top of the next data file.

Right on cue, Blitzwing reached to the top of the stack. His hand bumped Astrotrain's nose.

"BOO!"

"Gah!" Blitzwing nearly fell out of his chair. "Vot in de— Astrotrain!"

The mech grinned, optic-level with him. "How ya doin', Blitzy?"

He rolled his good optic and yanked the next file out from under Astrotrain's chin. "I am fine, thank you."

"You look a little unsettled."

"Do I? I vonder vy," he started typing up the contents of the file, then stopped, sighing. "You broke my concentration."

"You're welcome. You ready for tomorrow night?"

"Yes, yes, you haff only been reminding me of it for de past three weeks."

Astrotrain leaned over and flapped a pair of passes in his face. Blitzwing tried to grab them and missed. They disappeared back into his subspace pocket. "Bought em just for me and you. Premium slots to a big surprise."

"Vich, of course, I can vait to see tomorrow since you von't tell me vot it is."

"If I did, it wouldn't be much of a surprise, huh? Just be ready to ship off to Kaon in the morning."

"Yes, I know. How is dot new courier business of yours coming?" Blitzwing sat back from the computer terminal and stretched a little.

Astrotrain shrugged. "It's coming. Seems like I was meant to cart stuff around and deliver it. Sometimes people too, for a good price. My true calling is a bus boy. Go figure." He frowned and motioned to the Decepticon symbol proudly engraved on his right wing. "You still haven't chosen, have you?"

Blitzwing's optic narrowed and he folded his arms across his chest to cover the empty place painted in black. "I told you my opinion on dot matter," he said, his voice dangerously soft.

"Just sayin'. Any word if they found that missing medic from this facility?"

"No, I am afraid not. Like de news says, de Omicron Police haff been called in to investigate. No one knows vere he vent."

"Slag. That's too bad."

"Yah. He's a goot mech. I hate to think of his fate vit' dis war goink on." Blitzwing pulled his chair back against his desk. "I must get this done if I am to take de day off tomorrow, Astrotrain. I'll see you and Octane in a few megacycles."

He nodded and patted the stack of data files. "Of course. I'll catch you later." He waved.

The clacking of computer keys answered him.

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

Astrotrain, Blitzwing and Octane landed in Kaon the next day, just as the distant sun cast its last rays of the solarcycle. The three fliers laughed and talked among themselves like they always had. They had known each other for so long none of them counted the stellarcycles anymore.

But things had changed. Blitzwing noticed with distaste that Octane now wore the Decepticon symbol too. His awkward grey, blue and white friend walked with his chest sticking out a little too far. It was hard to believe this was a mech who jumped at his own shadow sometimes. _So_, Blitzwing thought, trailing behind them, _my friends have chosen sides and I still haff not. They ask, but they do not understand vy I still refuse. This is not my var. I haff had plenty fighting already. Octane walks like he owns vun of de moons of Cybertron now. I do not see vy ve must choose. Either side's cause fulfills nothing._

Preoccupied by such thoughts, he didn't realize where they were headed. Other Transformers, mostly Decepticons save for a few brave Autobots and Neutrals, milled around in a growing horde. As they walked closer to a massive domed building the crowd organized into lines. He stopped in his tracks, his spark freezing in mid-pulse. His two friends carried on without him. A yellow mech twice his size bumped into him.

"Hey, don't hold up traffic!"

Blitzwing blinked several times before the words registered. He quickly moved aside. "My apologies."

The bruiser shoved past him with a hand that looked like a shovel. "Puny piston-pusher."

He didn't bother with a reply, his mind reeling. Eventually Astrotrain and Octane realized he wasn't following them anymore. They found him retreating from the middle of the crowd to the sidewalk. Octane caught up first and snagged his shoulder.

"Blitzwing, wait! What's the matter?"

"I should not be here."

"Sure you are. This is Train's surprise for you. Did you forget your pass?"

"Hey, what's up you two?" asked Astrotrain, glancing at a nearby chronometer. "If we don't hurry we're going to be late to the registry table."

"I think Blitzy's having a meltdown."

"Eh?"

He took a step back and stumbled over the curb, now shaking his head, optics glued to the building in front of him. The LCD screen along the top flashed with the words _Welcome to the Grand Arena 276__th__ Tournament!_

"This?" He managed to say. "This is your surprise for me? De Grand Arena?"

Astrotrain made a sound of annoyance. "Oh come on. You still can't be skittish about this place."

"Are ve fighters or spectators?"

He hesitated. "Well, if we don't hurry—"

"Are ve _fighters or spectators?_" Blitzwing's voice cracked on the last word.

Octane patted his shoulder. "I'm watching. You two get to have the fun."

"VOT?"

Several heads turned at his startled cry. He backed up again. "No, no, I cannot. There is a reason I do not engage in such things anymore. You two vere not here. You don't understand."

Astrotrain moved to his side and clapped him across the back in a half-hug, leading him to the Grand Arena Dome, speaking quietly under the murmur of the crowd. "Blitzy, it's okay. That was stellarcycles ago. _Stellarcycles._ This is just a little fun. You can't let me go in there all by myself, can you? Besides, the winner gets fifty thousand credits, the biggest prize offered. We both could use some cash, hmm?"

"I don't care about de money. This is about my sani—"

Octane barked a laugh. "Don't care about the money? I don't believe that for a cycle. C'mon Blitzy, there's no harm in trying. Or did you forget how to fight, sitting in front of that archive terminal too long?"

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

Blitzwing filled out the last line of the entry form and handed it to the cheerful young mech sitting behind the registry table. He ignored the whispers and poorly disguised stares in his direction. Out of sight, his fist clenched up tight until the inner supports creaked. On the other side of the wall, eager shouts for spilled vital fluids leaked through every crack. He willed his face straight, but his jaw threatened to lock up. The young mech glanced over the entry form, the glowing green letters reflecting off his faceplate. His pink optics widened and he stared up at Blitzwing.

"Are you really—"

"Yes," he interrupted, "I am."

"Wow! Good to see you here again sir! Oh, er, do you have your pass and entry fee?"

Astrotrain reached over Blitzwing's head with the pass and a bundle of Decepticon credits in his hand. "Here you go, kid. Don't annoy the champ any more than you have to."

"Great!" The pass was stamped and given back while the money disappeared into a heavily-armored box. "I can't wait to see you fight, Blitzwing! Good luck!"

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

Every spectator seat had been claimed in one way or another, fifteen cycles before the Tournament's start. The air vibrated with the constant dull roar of voices. On the arena floor, a loose group of over fifty fighters milled around stretching, sharpening weapons and shouting among themselves to be heard above the crowd. The usual assortment was there: The lone ninja, the stoic assassin, the bruisers used to winning with sheer mass, the femme or two out to prove something, and the drunk siblings set to have a good time even though it would most likely end in a severe headache and body injuries. Only a few of these would even make it to the second round. At the back near the corner, Astrotrain elbowed Blitzwing in the side.

"Some surprise, huh?"

Blitzwing brushed him off and stepped out of reach. "Indeed."

"Are you going to be mad at me all night?"

"I vas thinking for about de next century."

"Fine. This is for your own good. You can take it out on me in the ring."

"…You don't understand, Astrotrain. I hate this place in de deepest sense of de vord."

"Maybe you should take time to explain it to me for once?"

"No. It is too late for dot now." Blitzwing flexed his hands and watched the knuckles relax and tighten. Sickened, he scanned the crowd. He spotted Octane on the far right wall of the Arena. He didn't bother to return the wave Octane gave him. A familiar, burning urge to fight swelled in the back of his mind. Taking a slow intake of breath, he pushed it back and exhaled, mentally ordering his pounding spark to slow its pace.

A top deck encircled the dome's perimeter, set well above the spectator seats. Front and center, almost directly above where Octane was sitting, a lit room with a floor-to-ceiling window had a perfect view of the arena below. A grey and red Seeker stood inside, looking down on everything with his hands clasped behind his back. The mech's face was twisted in a sneer, as if he considered every being below too disgusting to be found under his boots.

"Hey Blitzy? You gunna do a weapons check?"

He glanced at Astrotrain before focusing on the VIP box again. "I am fine. Who is dot?"

"Who? Oh," Astrotrain ratcheted his rifle and tucked it under his wings. "That's Starscream. Never seen him in person before. I guess they really are here today."

Blitzwing started to ask who he meant when two more mechs appeared next to Starscream, both almost twice his size. The first fearsome silhouette was easy to recognize: Megatron. The shape of his deadly fusion cannon stuck out when he folded his arms. The second one, a huge bulky robot with one red optic, was not immediately recognizable. Starscream said a few words to them, sweeping a hand back and forth. Megatron nodded and tilted his head to examine the crowd. His optics fell on the corner where the Tournament's warriors were gathered. Blitzwing couldn't help watching until Megatron's gaze locked on him. For a brief instant the look lingered, then moved on. A shiver crept through Blitzwing's armor. He shook himself. Something felt like it was trying to chew a hole in his fuel tank. _Calm yourself. Dot vas not vot you think it vas!_

Moments later the Grand Arena lights dimmed. A holographic image flickered on over the main fighting ring. The sight of Megatron's stern face silenced the crowd immediately.

"Greetings, all of you, to the 276th Grand Arena Tournament!"

He allowed a rumble of cheers and shouts to roll through the room. "It is my pleasure to be here with you at this exciting event. Like you I look forward to seeing what tonight's competitors are capable of. And as you know, the prize is fifty thousand credits to the last warrior standing. Tonight we have fifty-six fighters eager to try their luck. However, there will be a slight change in routine this time."

Questioning voices peppered the silence. Blitzwing and the other would-be combatants stiffened when Megatron's gaze fell on them.

"Due to the war and related time restraints, there will be an elimination phase before the fighting begins."

Angry cries of "what?" popped up around him. Unlike his opponents, Blitzwing's chest swelled with anticipation.

"Only sixteen of you will compete today," continued Megatron.

His hope soared. _Maybe there is a vay out of this after all! Ha!_

"You each received a pass to get here, warriors. Recall your numbers now. If you hear yours, you stay."

"That's not fair!" grumbled Astrotrain.

Megatron looked off-screen and inclined his head. A scratchy, irritating voice began reading six-digit numbers. Blitzwing crossed his fingers and barely contained his glee as each number— not his —was read. Astrotrain shouted happily as his number came up. The annoying voice, Starscream's, neared the end of the list. Blitzwing blinked his optics off, hoping, hoping…

"And finally, number 682003."

The familiar burning within Blitzwing's mind leapt into his throat.

"_Slag!_" he said through gritted teeth, and watched everyone but fifteen others leave the arena floor.

--

_To be continued…_

_--_

_Comments are welcome, thanks for reading!  
_


	3. Chapter 3

The Night Within

By Starath

**Chapter 2**

**Part 1**

A gust of wind whipped across the rooftops. Blackarachnia held on to her webbing strand as it swayed violently and stabilized it with a spider's skill. She dropped down, loosening more webbing, and started across the roof to connect it to the first two threads. Blitzwing had gone silent amid his story-telling. He stared into the darkness ahead, seeing things only he could visualize. She paused in her web-spinning.

"I don't understand something," she said.

He blinked and shook his head as if awakening. "Yes?"

"Why didn't you want to be there anyway? Had you been to the Grand Arena before?"

"It is as I—"

"_You forgot de history lesson!"_ interrupted Random.

Blitzwing's mouth snapped shut. "Oh. You're right." He looked to her. "My apologies. I got too ahead of myself."

Blackarachnia pulled a new web strand across in front of him and focused on him with organic eyes. "Well?"

He studied the gravel again and shifted his weight. "Yes. I had been to de Grand Arena before. I vas de champion fighter for two stellarcycles in a row."

"Wow," she said, somewhat impressed.

"Then, I quit."

"Why?"

He reached down and scooped up some gravel. He watched it run through his fingers, unable to say it.

"_If you don't, I VILL!"_ threatened Hothead.

Blitzwing swallowed. "I couldn't remember de fights."

She scratched her head with a foreleg. "How could you not remember? You were there, weren't you? How did you fight? How did you know if you won?"

"Oh, I KNEW," he spat, and threw the rest of the gravel in the air, over the rooftop's edge. "I vas there. I knew because vot I do remember is… my opponents… vere not left standing."

"I don't get it."

"_You're supposed to be de one who makes sense!"_ said Random, cackling.

"In de beginning…" he said slowly, mentally telling Random to shut up at the same time, "In de beginning I fought and fought vell. I vas young, made my mistakes, learned from them, and became better. Vinning my first tournament vas one of de best moments in my life. But afterwards…. I noticed I couldn't remember parts of my matches. Small instances first, until bigger and bigger segments vere missing. Once, all I remember vas making de final blow dot killed my opponent. I had never killed before. Then I couldn't even remember what happened _after_ de fights. During my second stellarcycle in de Arena they started calling me a berserker, and I didn't even know vy_._"

While he paused, Hothead asked, _"You vant me to tell this part?"_

_No, I can do it._ Steeling himself, he continued, "Ven I won my second tournament I vas feared by everyone. People avoided me and accused me of "becoming someone else". By now whole weeks went by dot I couldn't remember, only de fighting. I remember absolutely loving de fighting. De war vas especially bad then, so Grand Arena matches vere postponed. I could think clearly immediately afterwards even though I craved more fighting. And then… I saw a recording of my last match ven I won my second champion title."

When the silence went on too long, Blackarachnia prompted him. "And?"

" 'Horrified' is not a strong enough vord."

"So you quit?"

"Yes."

"Hmm." She shrugged and went back to building her spider web.

"Disappearing vas easy once I moved far enough from Kaon not to be tempted anymore. I took up dot archiving job and found some peace."

"What's it like to be in the Arena?"

The question caught him off-guard. He rubbed his chin. "It is vere I truly felt alive. It vasn't about beating my opponent or de cheering of de crowd. Every match, I had to prove my worth. But ven I couldn't remember anything, only to find something—"

"_SomeONE!"_ corrected Hothead loudly.

"…Someone took over while I vas fighting, dere vas no reason to continue."

"The angry face?"

"_I HAFF a name,"_ the personality grumbled.

"Yes. Except I did not understand vot he vos yet, as this vas before I had my… faces. I did not understand anything until I found myself standing in de Arena again…"

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

After Megatron finished his speech, the floodlights came on over the arena platform. Four enormous monitors slid down from the ceiling and flickered on, the screens allowing the furthest spectator to see the arena clearly. The crowd buzzed with anticipation over the coming matches: Who would step under the floodlights first?

The rest of the Grand Arena was kept dim, save for one spotlight that shined on an entrance between two sections of crowd seating. Eager optics watched the lit floor intently. Suddenly the spotlight jerked to life when an orange and brown Junkion came racing out in vehicle mode. The little motorcycle transformed and did a flip. He landed with practiced expertise and waved. A microphone appeared in his hand.

"Hello hello hello Kaaaaaaaaoooooon!" he cried, and the masses returned his greeting. He jumped up onto the arena platform. "How are you all toniiiiight?"

The answering roar almost knocked him over, and he made a show of regaining balance. Laughter ran rampant.

"Well, we certainly have a healthy crowd tonight! To any of you n00bs out there, this is Rusty Bucket, the Voice of the Arena with you now, here for ringside commentary, and welcome to the Grand Arena! To you old fans and fanatics, welcome back!"

Rusty waited for the surge of shouting and clapping to die down before continuing. He paced back and forth while addressing the assembly. "We have quite the show in store for this time around! In fact, rumor has it an old champ has returned to the Arena! Oooo," he said, and the crowd echoed him obediently. "We shall soon see who that is, and we'll see the current favorite for winning it all! The question now, Kaon, are you ready for some mayhem?"

"YES!"

"I say, are you ready for some action?"

"YES!"

"I gotta ask again, ARE YOU READY for some down-and-dirty, skidplate-kicking, loser-stomping, to-the-death combat?"

It hardly seemed possible, but the crowd screamed back even louder, _"YES!"_

"Aaaalright!" Rusty threw his arms up and said what he was known for in the galaxy over: "Let's get ready to RUUUUUUUUUMMMMBLLLLLE!"

Blitzwing's optic twitched as his audios briefly overloaded due to the answering howl of bloodthirsty spectators. Beside him, Astrotrain joined in and laughed. Blitzwing tucked his arms tight against his chest. _Goot to know Rusty hasn't lost his touch…_ A smile briefly crossed his face.

Rusty magically hushed the Grand Arena Dome with a sweep of his hand. "If you would point your peepers to the screens, let's see who'll start us out tonight!"

Two boxes appeared on each monitor. Profile shots of the night's contenders whizzed through like the symbols on a slot machine. The pictures on the left started to slow until an image slid to a halt and locked into place. The stern face of a young black and silver mech stared at them all. Rusty read off the name.

"Quickshadow, come on dooooooooown!"

The chosen fighter left the group and elegantly stepped onto the arena platform with minimal effort. The floodlights highlighted his silver chrome that left streaks in the air when he moved. His alternate mode was evidently some kind of car, sleek and fast. He took position in the corner furthest from Rusty, his expression intensely focused despite the racket.

"Quickshadow is a self-proclaimed assassin, so grab his number if you want somebody scrapped after the tournament! A new fighter this stellarcycle, he came through clean in all ten preliminary rounds leading to this event! Here's hoping your luck lasts, kid! Let's see who your challenger is!"

The profile pictures flew by until they slowed to an excruciating pace— and stopped on Blitzwing's image. The crowd quieted instantly, as if someone had flipped a switch. Blitzwing stared at the monitor and suddenly had trouble swallowing. The picture was old but still recognizable, almost. _Did I really haff such a crazy look in my optics?_

Rusty gaped too long like everyone else until he found his voice.

"Blitzwing, come on dooooooown!"

Reluctantly he left the dim safety of the arena floor and stepped up onto the platform. All around him the crowd revived itself in a frenzy of cheers and screaming. He kept his head down to avoid the glare of the floodlights… and looking at any of them.

"Looks like the rumors are true, folks! He's been gone for 135 stellarcycles, disappearing after claiming the championship two tournaments in a row! Now featured in a new paintjob, a fetching purple, tan and black, welcome back, Blitzwing the Berserker!"

A chill rattled through his shoulders when the booming cries filled the Grand Arena Dome to capacity. _I should not be here!_ He balled his fists to stop his hands from shaking. The scorching fever in the farthest point of his mind touched the mental barriers he had erected to contain it. It began to melt through them. _And yet, here I am…_

For the first time he started hearing individual words in the unintelligent noise. His _name._ They were cheering his name! He _was_ the champ, once, long ago, and they remembered! Why shouldn't he _act_ like one? His vision suddenly sharpened. He lifted his head and smiled. Rusty ended the quiet moment of inspiration.

"Right, fighters, to your corners!"

Blitzwing moved to the corner diagonal from Quickshadow. The young mech had already drawn his weapons, a pair of katars with energy blades. Blitzwing spread his feet and hunched down into fighting position.

"Rules are as stated: The first one out of bounds of this platform or unable to fight is the loser. Any combat method is allowed so long as it doesn't blow up this building. Oh, and make it good and messy!"

The crowd heartily agreed.

"Are you ready?" Rusty looked to Quickshadow, who nodded. "Are you ready?" He asked Blitzwing.

He nodded.

Rusty quickly got out from between them and hopped down off the arena platform.

"Let's burn it to the ground! BEGIN!"

At first, Quickshadow and Blitzwing measured each other, hardly moving a single muscle cable. Blitzwing eyed the energy-bladed katars warily. Quickshadow had one for each hand. The blades extended well beyond his hands, but they weren't long enough to be swords. He knew from experience they were a short-range weapons meant to pierce armor with a strong enough punch. By the way Quickshadow gripped them they were obviously his weapons of choice. Around them, the crowd urged them on to battle. Blitzwing didn't move, and neither did Quickshadow. _Goot, he does not allow them to pressure him into fighting— so I VILL!_

Twin cannons snapped into place on Blitzwing's shoulders. He fired two pulses of ice that struck the platform just where Quickshadow had been standing. Ice spread out and coated the surface. _Vere did he— _a whistle of air against metal brought Blitzwing's attention upward. Quickshadow was mere feet over his head with katars outstretched.

"Oh man, folks, did you see him move?" cried Rusty.

The first katar scraped a thin line down Blitzwing's back. He twisted to get between them and landed a solid punch under Quickshadow's chin. He flew backwards and flipped in mid-air to right himself before hitting the floor. Before the young mech could get his bearings, Blitzwing surged forward and began a barrage of strikes.

"Uh oh, what's he going to do now—"

Quickshadow blocked them using his energy blades like shields. He took a swipe from the left shoulder to right hip. It left him open to a blow in the torso. He backed up to give himself room, but Blitzwing stayed too close. Desperation flickering across his features, Quickshadow kicked up and struck him across the face.

"—and Quickshadow pulls free after a well-place kick! Amazing how he can—"

Blitzwing shook himself to steady his vision.

"Here he comes again!"

He spun in a tight circle to get Quickshadow in sight. Sensors blared and directed his gaze above.

"Scrap!"

He stumbled aside just before the katars could cleave him helmet to torso. He regained footing and heard Quickshadow touch ground. Again he came with blades extended.

_This kid is fast! _Thought Blitzwing, and a second thought followed, loud and aggressive: _Then I must be FASTER!_

Ducking, he felt the breeze of the katars passing over his head. He snatched Quickshadow's forearms and threw himself backwards, pulling Quickshadow over his head. Blitzwing slammed him onto the floor, hard.

"Ow, that's GOTTA hurt!"

Both fighters leapt to their feet in moments, trading blows. Quickshadow sliced at Blitzwing but didn't land any hits. Blitzwing kept him out of reach with a fury of kicks. Quickshadow dodged one and slipped on the inside. His right katar struck Blitzwing's cheek, tearing it open. Mech fluid bubbled out instantly. Blitzwing's good optic widened before it narrowed in rage. The burning fever in his mind ripped free of any boundaries. Hot anger spilled loose and curtained his vision in red.

"HOW DARE YOU CUT ME!"

Grabbing Quickshadow's elbow, he jerked him forward and brought up his knee. The shattering _crash_ of metal on metal was audible above the crowd's cheering. Silver mech fluid gurgled up into Quickshadow's throat. Grinding his teeth together, Blitzwing pulled back his clenched fist and prepared to drive it through the assassin's chestplate. _NO ONE harms ME! I vill CRUSH HIM!_

"Oh, is this the end for Quickshadow?" cried Rusty.

Blitzwing stopped in mid-swing, his mentality suddenly clear. _Vot am I doing? _He dropped his opponent, who fell in a choking heap. Blitzwing stepped back, breathing hard, and gripped his head. The echoes of a terrible voice reverberated in his consciousness. _Who said dot? Vas it me?_ He wiped at the wound on his cheek and stared at his reflection mirrored in the silver. Sudden movement passed over the droplet's surface.

"You should have finished me when you had the chance, Berserker!"

Blitzwing leaned back. His cannons fired off two shots of ice.

"Maybe you should chill!"

Quickshadow tried to block the blasts. Ice overtook his arm up to the shoulder. The second pellet coated his left leg.

"Argh! No!"

He fell to the floor. A katar skidded across the tile. He attempted to push himself up but the weight of ice made it impossible to balance. Under blazing arena floodlights, Blitzwing's shadow cooled the air like a brush of death.

"I'm not finished!" Quickshadow protested, and clawed the ground for support.

"Oh, but you are."

Blitzwing's cannons fired again. When he turned away to face the crowd, Quickshadow stared up helplessly, completely encased in ice.

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

"… Rusty made his standard show he always does vile counting to ten, but it vas unnecessary. I had won."

"Wow. Then what? The other matches?"

"They vent similarly, except it became harder and harder to control myself. Astrotrain vas eliminated by his second opponent. I made it to de final round and fought against de crowd favorite, Wrencher. He vas ironically de same brute who ran into me earlier dot day, as I mentioned. Had I not been there, he surely would haff dominated de tournament."

"Did you win against him too?"

"I did. Barely. De burning in my mind… it…. I can't tell you how I won, I only know vot it looked like afterwards. Ven I thought it vas over, I vas released from the destructive nature vit'in me. All I vanted to do then was go home and return to vork vere I could hear de endless typing."

"But you didn't. Why?"

A pause. "I forgot dere is always de final match."

--

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

The Night Within

By Starath

**Chapter 2**

**Part 2**

Blitzwing could hardly look at the mangled wreckage the arena medics hauled away. What had been a formidable warrior had been reduced to a whimpering, sparking mess. The mech's voice box popped and squealed; wavering inside a gaping hole in what was his neck.

"N-n-no! Keee--eep it away! I'll n-n-never f-f-iiiiight again!"

One of the medics moved Wrencher's arm and rested it on his chest. Like his comrade, he did not make eye-contact with Blitzwing.

"Easy now. We'll fix you up."

The medics left.

The heat of the arena floodlights had already started to harden the mech fluid on Blitzwing's armor. He flexed his hands and watched the silver stuff flake off. It fluttered to the floor like tiny feathers from an astrobird. He had beaten Wrencher. But how? _I… I don't remember!_ He tried replaying the match in his head and found he didn't remember anything past his third fight. _Astrotrain vas hauled away after being defeated… but den vot?_ Panic raced through his internal systems. Vaguely he recalled an odd punch, a fired shot… fire instead of ice? A… decapitation? _Vit my bare hands?_ And a voice. Not his. The same one—

"Hey Blitzwing? Wake up and smell the energon brew!"

"Vot?" His head came up. The roar of the arena crowd flooded through his audios. Rusty's microphone wiggled in front of him.

"I _said_, you just defeated your last opponent! What will you do now?"

"Huh?"

Rusty covered the microphone and leaned in, whispering in an urgent undertone. "C'mon, work with me here!"

"Oh." Blitzwing rubbed his monocle and smeared a drop of mech fluid before removing it. "I'll, ah, gladly collect de prize and go home."

Rusty stared at him. "Really?"

When the audience lapsed into a dangerous silence, he laughed with exaggeration. "Ho Blitzwing, you kidder! You still have that random sense of humor!"

Luckily, the audience laughed with him. Blitzwing began to protest. In the back of his mind, a rough voice interrupted.

"_You think ve are done here? Think again!" _

He felt all fluid drain into his feet. "Vot—"

This time Rusty interrupted. "Onwards to the final match!" He threw a hand up to the hologram that materialized above them. "But first, a word from our sponsor!"

The floodlights dimmed. Megatron's image instantly silenced the Grand Arena Dome again.

"You have fought well, warrior. I have enjoyed watching your matches."

Blitzwing stared up, fumbling for words. "Ah… I'm glad."

"How do you feel?"

"Weary," he blurted. "I vould like to go home." He blinked his optics off and gritted his teeth. _Oh, DOT sounded goot!_

"_Maybe you should let me do the fighting AND talking," _grumbled the voice.

_Shut up! _He mentally cried.

Megatron chuckled. The crowd obediently laughed with him.

"Your humor shows again. Stand fast warrior, you are not through yet. Lugnut, GO!"

Beside him, Rusty yelped and dashed off the platform. "Good luck mate!"

Blitzwing stood there, alone. He could have shot himself for forgetting. _Slag! I must claim de championship title from de current champion! _

Megatron's hologram vanished. The floodlights lit up and filled Blitzwing's vision with white. He focused on the floor, waiting for his optics to adjust. Somewhere high above he heard glass shattering. A black shadow hovered just in front of him. He watched it grow and grow until he realized—

"_Get out of de vay!" _His mind shouted.

Blitzwing hurried backward scant seconds before Lugnut landed on the arena platform. The impact shook the Dome like a thunderclap. The tile imploded under Lugnut's weight and Blitzwing was knocked off his feet by the shockwave. Falling glass rained on them like shards of crystal.

The hulking purple and green mech slowly straightened his knees and fixed his opponent with one red optic.

"It's the moment you've all been waiting fooooor!" cried Rusty. "Our reigning champion has arrived! You love him or you hate him, but all beware the siren heralding ultimate destruction! He has been top dog in the ring for five stellarcycles, can he make that streak six? Now with a striking new Decepticon logo and fighting for his Mightiness Lord Megatron, welcome Lugnut, the Kaaaaaoooooon Krusher!"

By all previous comparison, the crowd went absolutely wild. Blitzwing stood up and attempted to dust himself off. Chips of tile and glass stuck to the semi-dried mech fluid. He gave up after making more of a mess on himself than he already had. Like it mattered if he looked clean right now? He glanced up and found the red optic staring at him.

"Fighters, let's have a shake before you two tear each other apart!"

Blitzwing stepped up to the title-holding fighter and offered his hand first.

"Nice to meet you, Lugnut." What else could he say?

Lugnut's pincher claw dwarfed his hand. He shook it with surprising delicacy. "Good to know I am fighting one worthy, former champion."

"Fighters, to your corners!"

They parted ways.

Blitzwing crouched down into fighting position. His knees wobbled from fatigue. Across the platform, Lugnut lumbered into place. Rusty followed him on the ground floor.

"Hey champ, be sure to give us warning before you poke him, okay?" He laughed, and nervous laughter ran through the crowd.

Lugnut ground his jaw. "That is what the siren is for."

Rusty coughed and pulled at an invisible shirt collar. "Right. Just sayin'. Fighters!" He stepped back and swept his arm with practiced flair. "Let's burn it to the ground! BeeeeeGIN!"

Again Blitzwing caught the red optic gazing at him. He could see his reflection in it.

"You should know," Lugnut said, his low voice carrying across the distance, "your annihilation is unavoidable."

The bluntness of the statement took Blitzwing off-guard. He cracked his knuckles. His face remained stoic. Inside, fury raged.

"Ve shall see, my friend."

Glass crunched under his boot when he shifted his weight. The platform tile was showered with it; miniature obstacles that could make a hard fall deadly. He chanced a glance upwards, wondering where the broken glass had come from. He spotted the VIP box. Megatron stood framed by a jagged hole in the window in front of him. Blitzwing returned his focus on Lugnut. _So he's been up there all this time, vatching._ Uneasiness seeped through his armor to the core of his spark. Lugnut must know how he fought by now, but he didn't have a clue what Lugnut was capable of. A bitter smile tugged at his lips. _This fight is set up vell…_

"Are you another who is all talk?" asked Lugut.

"I do not see you moving either," replied Blitzwing.

Despite the impatient booing of the crowd, he took time to study his opponent. Lugnut was probably used to fighters coming at him first. The key would be to strike without getting hit in return. A blow from those pinchers would be devastating. Blitzwing's strength in fighting was largely hand-to-hand combat. He doubted he could make the brute move.

"Are you afraid?"

Lugnut's gravelly voice reached his audios again. He clenched a fist. _No, _he silently answered, _I just do not know how to fight you!_

A disgusted growl grumbled in his mind. _"You alvays did think too much."_

He started and resisted the urge to grasp his head in both hands. _No, not NOW!_

"_Vot are you waiting for?" _The voice demanded. _"Don't make me do it for you!"_

Every muscle cable in his body seized, forbidding movement. _Vot… did you say?_

"_I am who fights FOR you, coward!"_

"I thought you would be more exciting than this, Berserker." said Lugnut.

He was not listening. _You? But vot ARE you?_

"_I am vot you keep hidden and restrained. And if you do not MOVE, I vill fight Lugnut MYSELF!"_

"Lugnut!" Megatron's voice cut through everything. The behemoth Decepticon automatically drew himself up to attention.

"Yes, my glorious leader?"

"Attack him."

The order silenced Blitzwing's mental argument. He watched Lugnut salute to the VIP box above.

"As you command!"

The spectators cheered in approval when he charged across the platform where Blitzwing awaited. The impact of each footfall sent vibrations through his already weak knees. _I can't—there is no vay—_

"_MOVE!" _

Blitzwing dodged to one side, narrowly escaping a punch meant for his chestplate. He circled around behind, backpedaling as fast as he could without falling. Lugnut turned.

"You _run?_ What kind of berserker are you?"

"A live one!" he responded, and briefly wondered where the retort came from.

Lugnut pivoted on his right foot and came at him again. "Let us see how long that lasts!"

_He is— he is far too big! _He thought in panic. _One blow and I'll be thrown from de ring!_

"_He is nothing! Stop thinking and ACT!" _

Both cannons fell onto his shoulders and whined with contained energy. He ducked under Lugnut's outstretched arm and stepped aside. He let the ice pellets fly as quickly as they could come.

"Argh! COLD!" roared Lugnut, bending his arms to shatter the sheet of ice.

"That is—de idea!" snapped Blitzwing, still firing his cannons. Ice struck and spread out; coating limbs and armor faster than Lugnut could break free. In his visual display Blitzwing's internal computer displayed an urgent warning: **Chemical ice components 91% depleted.**

When it told him for the fourth time, he ceased his weapons. A fog of cold vapor washed over him and parted: Before him stood Lugnut, encased in a small glacier of ice.

"Isn't that a sight?" shouted Rusty. The crowd responded with mixed cheers and boos.

A strange giddiness overtook Blitzwing. "Like my sculpture?" He called down to Rusty, grinning. "I think I vill call it 'Mount Lug'!"

Rusty grinned back uneasily, putting distance between himself and the arena as if Blitzwing might dismember him at any moment. Normally overconfident, his voice shook. "W-whatever you say!"

He admired his handiwork. "Perhaps you should start count—"

A loud CRACK cut him off. The ice groaned and shifted. Deep fissures raced around the massive ice block from the ground up. Blitzwing stared in disbelief.

"No! No one can break through—"

"HoooooAAAAAARRRR!" Lugnut bellowed, ripping apart his temporary prison. Chunks of ice flew in all directions. Blitzwing blocked a piece from striking him in the face with his forearm.

"FOOL!" Lugnut shouted, his breath coming out as white steam. He lifted his legs to break free of the ice holding him to the floor. "You think that is enough to stop ME?"

"Vell, I vas hoping so—"

"_This is no time for silliness!"_ scolded the voice in his mind. Blitzwing laughed aloud, almost hysterically.

"I can't help it!"

"No one can help you here!" said Lugnut, closing the distance between them in two giant steps.

"_FOCUS!" _ His mind screamed.

Blitzwing felt the wind of the deadly pincher whizzing past his side. Shifting his weight to the right, he wrapped himself around Lugnut's barrel-like forearm. Despite his internal computer's incessant warnings, he cocked his cannons and fired.

Lugnut flailed to get him off while swallowing rounds of ice. Pellets ricocheted off his armor at such close range and pinged to the floor. Blitzwing attempted to regain his footing and slipped on an ice patch. Lugnut snatched his legs. Yanking him off his arm, his other pincher clamped onto his wrists.

Distantly, he heard Rusty's voice. "—you know what's coming—"

Blitzwing's vision suddenly consisted of the floodlights above. He saw the roof supports that held them in place. He could have counted the screws. Lugnut leaned back. He saw the crowd over the mech's enormous shoulders.

Lugnut rammed his knee into Blitzwing's back. Mech fluid surged into his throat.

Suddenly, he hit the floor. Glass shards punctured his armor in hundreds of places. He coughed. The ground wouldn't stay level. He willed his legs to pick him up. They wouldn't.

"_Get up, get UP!" _urged the voice, the demon, whatever it was that would give him no peace.

Lugnut's shadow fell over him. _I… I can't…_

"_You vill be defeated!"_

_I cannot fight anymore!_ He cried, and would have wept from the agony of severe pain.

The voice growled. _"Then I VILL."_

For the first time he felt his mentality slip, as if he had fallen into a deep well backward. The world as he knew it dimmed to a faded, dull place of unrecognizable sights and sounds. He grasped for the last threads of light with invisible hands. _No—no—no—NO! _ Far off, as if through a metal tunnel, he heard Rusty's theatrical counting.

"Four! –Five! –SIX!"

He opened his mouth to scream. It was no longer his to control. His jaw clamped itself shut.

"_GIVE ME MY BODY BACK!"_ He screeched, unheard by anyone on the outside. His words came back as haunting echo and surrounded him. _"I do not understand—"_

One word, louder than anything, commanded: _Watch._

Through a curtain of grey film Blitzwing saw his hands move on their own. His legs, traitors before, shifted and the toes of his boots pressed against the tile.

Lugnut jumped back in surprise when Blitzwing leapt up. Rusty cheered with the Grand Arena spectators.

"Heeee's UP! Hold onto your hats, folks, this match isn't done yet!"

The new owner of Blitzwing's body tilted his head side to side, straightening his neck, and pushed on the small of his back. Crackling pops of rearranging spinal supports sounded like energon bubbles bursting from behind the grey film. Fragments of glass came loose when he flexed his arms, testing the joints.

"You got him goot, Lugnut!" The voice that spoke wasn't his, but the gruff one that had always been internal until now. "But it's different now. I'M here."

The large red optic blinked. "As opposed to—"

"Prepare to be CRUSHED, you pathetic pile of purple armor! You may be big, but you're not indestructible! No one defeats ME!"

"Hah," snorted Lugnut. "You are all talk."

Emotions churned inside his mind— anger, arrogance, hatred— everything he rarely felt came raging to the forefront. Watching this go on, realization dawned on Blitzwing: This must be why he couldn't remember the fights! He _did_ become someone else!

He could almost see the trigger that changed something inside him. He tried focusing on his visual scanner display. The chemical ice warning was gone, now replaced with—

"You took de ice, now let's see how you like de taste of FIRE!"

Cannons already in place, red pellets came in a tremendous volley of explosions. Although he longed to know where the latent ability came from, he couldn't help urging his mental counterpart on. "_Yes! Get him!"_

Lugnut tried blocking the rounds, but the explosions began forcing him backward to the edge of the platform. Letting out a roar, he charged his opponent, intent on taking him down with a right hook.

Blitzwing felt all the sensations of muscle cables preparing for action before his body's controller made a move. He watched his hands clench Lugnut's forearm. With strength he would have believed impossible, he jerked Lugnut off his feet.

"RAAAAAH!"

Lugnut hit the ground on his back. Glass fragments made tiny musical _clinks _as they scattered from the impact crater. From his vantage point, there but so far away, the BOOM sounded hollow and echoed to the outer corners of his consciousness.

"_Yes!"_ He cried, triumphant.

_See vot I mean? _Although aggressive, the voice was smug.

His hands went to his hips as he cocked his head and spoke aloud, rough with a thicker accent than normal.

"Zo it IZ true, vot dey zay— De bigger dey are, de harder dey fall."

Lugnut hauled himself up without warning. Blitzwing's body fell back several steps in reaction. He settled into fighting position.

"You vant more, komm and get it!"

The Decepticon raised his right fist. "Enough of this! Your defeat comes NOW!"

On the arena floor, the Junkion announcer shouted. "Uh oh, is he going to—?"

Flames rocketed out the rear of his barrel-like forearm. The harsh wail of a siren began. Lights around the perimeter of the arena changed from white to red. Blitzwing would have swallowed nervously if he had the ability.

"_Uh oh. I do not like this…"_

_Hah! _The angry voice said. _Flashing lights and sounds. Big deal. Means nothing. _

Lugnut's clawed hand trembled. The flames from his elbow joint doubled in ferocity. His pincher suddenly transformed, and in its place was a blinking red button.

"Here it COMES!" yelled Rusty, and dove under a nearby set of stairs. The crowd members, although riveted, also sought some sort of protection.

Blitzwing began tearing to get at the front of his mind. _"You can't defeat dot! RUN!"_

_COWARD! I can defeat anything!_ The hot-headed mentality resisted his attempts to reclaim ownership of his body. _Just VATCH ME! _

He ran towards Lugnut.

"_No! IDIOT!" _

Lugnut grunted from the strain of holding back so much power, then grinned as Blitzwing charged him.

"Meeting your destruction head-on? Admirable. But FUTILE!"

Blitzwing's fist stretched out to meet the herald of death. Desperate, his mentality struggled and swam up to the grey film and forced himself through. Like stepping from night into day, he emerged into the real world, in control of his body again.

In time to see the blinking red missile descend on him.

Lugnut's fist connected with his chestplate.

The explosion shattered his audio receivers. He left the ground in a dozen pieces. His head and torso flew the farthest into the crowd seating on the right side of the Grand Arena.

When his optics flickered online, Octane's panicked face hovered over him. His mouth moved. Blitzwing heard only fragments—and the siren.

"Bl-ZZTwing? C-ZZT you ZZTear mZZT? You're bl-ZZT Oh Prim-ZZT yo-ZZT head! Med-ZZT— _MEDIC!_"

--

_To be continued… _


	5. Chapter 5

The Night Within

By Starath

"_No medication can cure what has taken hold."_

-- "Haunted" by Disturbed

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

**Chapter 3**

Blackarachnia completed another circle within her growing spider web. She hooked the ends of the circle together with her forelegs, doing her best to look busy.

"So… you took a blow to the head, and it made you crazy?" she finally asked.

Blitzwing laughed. The sound was strange and hollow coming from Icy's mouth, devoid of all humor.

She stopped to glare at him. "I wasn't being funny."

"Of course not." He turned to her, his face stoic. "It is just dot your assumption is so very wrong."

"Oh really? Why don't you correct me, then?"

"I vas getting to it, but I vasn't sure you vere listening amid all your web-spinning."

"I was listening!" she protested.

His monocle-optic pinned her where she hung. "It vas as though my story bothered you."

Blackarachnia scowled in return and hurried to finish two more circuits around her web. She tested each intersection of webbing for solidarity, then crawled down onto the roof. She transformed and hopped onto the web backwards. It creased neatly into a personal hammock. She folded her hands. "Fine. What comes after your big throw-down with Lugnut?"

Blitzwing leaned forward and uttered one haunted word: "Voices."

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

"I VILL KILL YOU ALL!"

"Quickly, the restraints! We have to keep him down!"

"He's losing fluids!"

"LET ME UP!"

"Clamp the wound! It'll seal up when we get the plating in place!"

_SNAAAAP_.

"He's broken it! Pin his arm down, he'll hurt himself!"

"He'll hurt US!"

"Just _do_ _it!_"

Heavy weight pressed onto his right side.

"YOU CANNOT CONTAIN ME!"

"Slag! I—can't—hold—"

"He needs this or his core processor won't function at all! Minerva, the neural net inhibitor, quickly! Before he throws off—"

_CRAAAAAAASH._

"I'm okay! …I think."

"Here it is doctor!"

"Three macro-units to his system, STAT!"

A sharp pain in his left hip.

"YOU THINK… DOT…. vill…."

"It's taking affect, Breakaway."

"…Thank Primus."

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

"—we cannot allow you to see him at this time."

"Why? –And why is he tied down?"

"I'm sorry sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Look femme, that's my best friend in there and I—"

"Security!"

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

"How is his recovery coming?"

"The last chassis reconstruction was yesterday. It would have been easier to give him a new body, if not for the extensive damage to his—"

"I will be the judge of that."

"Of course. Luckily, his nanites are healthy and are working on necessary internal repairs. I have knitted together his armor from the recovered pieces and some new materials."

"Good." A pause. "Remove the restraints. I don't want him panicking when he awakes."

"But sir, the safety of my staff—"

"Is of no concern of mine. Remove them, Breakaway. _Now_."

"…Yes, Megatron."

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

"Hey, I don't know if you can hear me, but our match was the best fight I've ever had. You and Lugnut went at it like pros. It was an honor to fight you." A light touch on his arm. "Good luck."

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

_Am… Am I alive?_

"_You must be. Everything hurts."_

_Ugh… you again. _

"_Yah, looks like I'm here to stay." _

_Excuse me as I leap for joy._

"_Did you hear vot I heard earlier?"_

_Huh?_

"_It sounded like your friend Octane. A gurl told him to leave. He sounded upset." _

_If it vas him, probably. Oooh, my head…_

"_You mean MY head."_

…Our _head_.

"_Voteffer. Dis is boring. Vy don't you move? Activate your optics? It is dark in here."_

_Because I hurt. Ve most likely suffered extensive damage because of you. _

"_Me? Vot did I do?"_

_You charged Lugnut, idiot. _

"_Oh."_

_Ve need to rest. _

"_Okay. It is varm in here anyway…"_

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

At first he thought he was dreaming. The image of a slender white femme hovered around him. Behind her the walls were a pale, soothing shade of yellow. A low hum of electronic equipment created a bubble of noise around his head. His vision flickered. His optics came fully online.

The white femme smiled. She faced him after checking on his spark rate monitors. Her lips were full and pouty. Her optics were bright blue. Her alt mode was obviously some sort of car. A red cross was painted proudly on her upper arms.

"You're awake, Blitzwing? Welcome back."

His first reaction was to sit up. He groaned. She pushed him down, gently.

"Don't try to move. I'll get the medic."

She left his line of sight. Blitzwing lifted his head so he could watch her go a moment longer.

"_She's cute. I vonder if she vould go out vit' me." _

He let his head hit the cushion underneath and draped a hand over his optics. Familiar or not by now, this voice was getting annoying.

_Oh, DO shut up…_

The inner voice laughed. _"Vot? She'd like me. You are too boring."_

_Need I remind you ve inhabit de same body?_

"_Not vit'out protest. I cannot express myself!"_

He groaned again, drawing out the tone to block out anything further from the voice. Footsteps from down the hall reached his audios. With agonizing slowness he picked up his hand and let it drop beside him. A red and white jet-bot approached him. He focused on the blue visor, then the mech's face.

"Br… Breakaway?"

Breakaway smiled, holding his medical clipboard against the jet cockpit that formed his chest.

"Blitzwing. It's been awhile."

"I haffn't seen you since before—"

"I disappeared, yes. I've been here."

"De police haff been looking for you for months!"

Breakaway sighed. "I know."

For the first time Blitzwing let his optics roam the room. "Vere is 'here'?"

"The Grand Arena Dome Medbay. I've been told you should find this place familiar."

"But you are an Autobot. De Grand Arena is controlled by Decepticons. All of Kaon is."

His friend's face became grave. "Yes. And they are ruthless recruiters. They know how to destroy, not to heal."

"I'm… sorry."

"Don't be. By the looks of things they haven't gotten you. Yet." Breakaway took a breath. "Either way, I'm still doing what I want to do."

"Even if it means repairing Decepticons?"

"A life has its own purpose. Its well-being is mine."

Blitzwing managed a chuckle. "I haff always admired you for dot. So you must haff repaired me?"

Breakaway tapped on his clipboard, scrolling through a data file. "I did, along with Minerva, whom you saw, and Scamper, my medic-in-training. It was rough, but you pulled through. You're a fighter all right. You've been healing nicely for the past two months."

He blinked in disbelief. "Dot cannot be. I haffn't seen anything around me until now."

The medic's visor shot upwards a little bit. He scribbled something on the data file. "Curious. The only explanation could be…" he paused, cleared his throat, and scribbled faster. "… Your nanites probably repaired your optics last, and kept them off to conserve and reroute resources elsewhere."

"Oh," said Blitzwing.

"_He's lying," _hissed the angry voice within his mind.

_Breakaway does not lie!_

"_No, but he can omit truth."_

Groaning again, he ended the mental conversation. Breakaway checked a monitor behind Blitzwing's head. "Are you in pain? Can I get you some medication?"

"No… thank you," he said. "I just need more rest."

Breakaway tucked his clipboard against his chest.

"You may have as much as you want, friend. There is no hurry involved in repair and recovery."

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

The next time he awoke he felt immensely better. Moving still hurt, though, and he spent an unknown amount of time counting the dots on the ceiling tiles. _Hmm. 156. De same amount as de last time I vas here…_

Light footsteps announced an arrival. To Blitzwing's delight, Minerva came into view. From the back of his mind, the other, hot-headed mentality willed an arrogant smirk on his face.

_"Go on! Say hi!"_

"Ah… hi," he croaked, and cringed when his voicebox cracked.

Minerva giggled and went about checking his diagnostic monitors. "You have visitors, dearie. Are you up to talking to them?"

"Visitors? Sure. I had just run out of dots to count up dere." He lifted a finger to point upward.

She patted his shoulder. "I'll let them in, but remember, don't try moving so much."

"As you command," he said, still arrogantly smiling. He watched her swaying hips when she left the room.

_"Heh heh. Boy, I vould like to—"_

His face immediately went straight. _–NOT going to GO THERE!_

"_Ah, you are no fun."_

Within moments, familiar faces appeared in the doorway. The one highest up, belonging to Astrotrain, broke out into a huge grin.

"Hey, Blitzy! How are ya doin'?"

Octane turned and smacked his shoulder. "Quiet, we're in a slagging medbay!"

"Oh, yeah, sorry." He shrugged and stopped at the foot of the bed. He shook the toe of Blitzwing's boot like a hand. "Wow, good to see you, pal. They wouldn't let anyone in til now."

Octane stepped around Astrotrain and stood on the right side. He held his hands tightly together as if he was afraid they might fall off. "We've been worried."

"Well, none of us have been more worried than Octane."

He threw a glare at Astrotrain, who pointedly ignored him. Blitzwing laughed, and regretted it when it hurt. The last mech through the door surprised him.

"Rusty?"

The short Junkion nodded and slipped past Astrotrain, into a chair beside the bed. "Didn't think I'd forget you after all these stellarcycles, did you? When you vanished off the face of Cybertron I wondered if I'd ever see your amazing fights again!"

"Goot to see you too, Rusty."

He slapped his knee, shaking his head. His normally bright yellow optics were pale and troubled. "Never seen someone take Lugnut's atomic punch dead-on like that. You're one lucky son of a glitch."

"If you can call it dot."

"Hey, you're alive aren't you?" asked Astrotrain. "We're just glad you're okay. All they had to do to me here was stick armor plating back on. I heard they had to pry pieces of you off the ceiling."

Blitzwing frowned. "I… cannot remember anything after seeing Lugnut's fist."

"You got blown to—" Astrotrain stopped when Octane growled.

"It was… bad." Rusty said quietly. "The crowd loved it, of course." He bared his teeth. "Bloodthirsty creatures."

"You… Practically landed in my lap." said Octane. "You were hurt bad."

After a moment of solemn silence, Astrotrain spoke up. "Any word on when you're outta here?"

"Soon enough. De medic says more tests need to be run to assure them everything is repairing properly."

"Good! Say, when you're up and running, I'll take you out for a drink or two." When Octane glared at him again, he waved a hand nonchalantly. "No surprises, I promise. I got paid well the other day. We should celebrate your health."

"I'll think about it."

"Blitzwing… do you remember what happened during your fight with Lugnut?" Rusty suddenly asked.

Most of it he cared not to, but he answered truthfully. "Yah, mostly."

"Are you aware that you… changed?"

He tried to sit up, then remembered he wasn't supposed to. "How so?"

"I've been watching you since the first time you stepped into the arena. It didn't used to happen, until after your first stellarcycle. When Lugnut kneed you, it should have been the end. Until you stood up. You've always had extraordinary comebacks like that. But you… you held yourself differently. And when you laughed after making that 'Mount Lug" joke…"

"I heard it sitting among the crowd." Octane chimed in. "It wasn't normal for you."

"It's like you have other selves hidden somewhere. You become them."

Blitzwing felt a chill. "More than one?"

Rusty shrugged. "Maybe. But the point is, is there something we should know about? I've watched a lot of fighters, and sometimes—"

"No," Blitzwing interrupted loudly. When his friends looked at him, startled, he held his breath and shrugged a little. "No… Everything is fine. I am… just edgy and tired. Do not vorry about me."

"It's rather hard not to, from what these two tell me." said Astrotrain. He patted Blitzwing's boot and pulled away. "I suppose we might have worn our welcome. You need rest. We'll catch you later."

Rusty abruptly stood up. "Yeah, he's right. You need your shut-eye. Lemme know if you ever need anything though, alright mate?"

Blitzwing smiled. "I vill."

Octane was the last to leave. He clasped his friend's hand. "Same goes for me. We shouldn't have made you go into the arena. It was selfish of us."

Blitzwing gave Octane's fingers a squeeze. "Do not blame yourself. How could you haff known I'd get so far? Typing at computer terminals is not goot for fighting skills."

Octane finally returned the smile. He let go. "Yeah, okay."

After his friends left, Blitzwing called for Minerva. She sashayed in, but he paid no attention to her curved hips.

"I must speak to Breakaway."

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

The medic entered Blitzwing's room after an unbearable amount of time. He moved slowly, weary, and his visor wasn't its normal bright blue.

"Sorry for the wait. I was tending to another patient. What did you need, Blitzwing?"

With enormous effort, he sat up and started to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He swatted Breakaway's hand away.

"I vill sit up if I vant to. I am no longer half dead."

"If you insist," he said, obviously displeased but compliant. He pressed his clipboard against his chest. "What do you need?"

"I vant to know vot you did not say de first time ve talked."

"I'm sorry?"

Blitzwing's optic narrowed. "You know vot I mean. I haff de right to know vot is wrong vit' me." He pushed back the other mentality that wanted to speak for itself. He couldn't help how his voice changed. "Tell me OR ELSE, Breakaway!"

Breakaway's visor lit up to its normal vibrant blue. He fidgeted, as if he suddenly shared the room's breathing space with a monstrosity.

"I am not at liberty to—"

"TELL ME!"

"I have been given explicit orders not to without direct permission."

Blitzwing grated his teeth. His sore body was now terribly tense. Everything ached. "I do not give a DAMN about orders or permissions, Breakaway. If there is something wrong vit' me I vant to know. Ve vill sort out authority matters later."

After a moment, Breakaway glanced at his clipboard and muttered, "He figured you'd do this anyway…" He tapped on the data file and began scrolling through it. "Due to the direct hit you took from Lugnut's punch, your core processor broke apart. By the looks of it, it was already cracked by previous trauma, probably during your past Arena fighter career. We had to piece it together by hand, but we could only do so much and let your neuro-network reorganize and reconnect to your core processor by itself."

Blitzwing leaned back a fraction. "My core processor? How is it I still function?"

"From what we can gather, your neuro-network had already divided itself to handle things when the processor was cracked. Your higher functions have been split up but they appear to be operating normally. This is rare, but I've seen it before. You will be fine in terms of functioning properly. However, there are… complications."

He swallowed. "Such as?"

"Multiple personalities. You've shown symptoms already, based on witness accounts from the last Grand Arena fights… and your behavior here."

_Multiple personalities!_ He almost fell back onto the bed and caught himself at the last instant. "So my processor has been split in two. How fun. Dot explains a lot."

"Actually…" Breakaway scanned his data and cringed. "Not two pieces. Three."

"Three?" he repeated, his voice reaching a sharp pitch. "Who else knows of this?"

"Only the appropriate staff and other significant individuals. Don't worry. We'll take care of you. You'll need a way to cope and it'll be hard, but you'll learn to live with it."

"You speak as though I have a permanently broken leg!" proclaimed Blitzwing. "It cannot be so simple." He stopped and pulled himself up. "Tell no one of this. I vill leave ven I am done repairing."

"Blitzwing, that is not advisable in the slightest. Without a way to express—"

"Tell NO ONE or I am valking out RIGHT NOW!"

Breakaway closed his mouth into a thin line. "Very well. I'll leave you to rest."

Blitzwing hardly heard him. He eased himself down onto the bed, gripping the sides tightly to prevent the world as he knew it from turning inside out.

Three personalities! His logic center must have been cut off from his source of emotions. What did that leave for the third part?

In the furthest corner of his mind, he heard hysterical laughter.

---

_To be continued…_


End file.
